Aesthetics
by AdmHawthorne
Summary: The study, art, and/or science of beauty, its creation, and its development. Co-written with AdmHawthorne. Repost. Rizzles.
1. Chapter 1

**Googlemouth has decided to completely retire. As such, she's taken down her FFN account, and she's allowed me the chance to repost what we worked on together.**

**Characters aren't ours. They belong to Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro, Turner Broadcasting, Warner Brothers, and other assorted important people. I gain nothing from writing these stories but the fun of doing it. Please don't sue me.**

**This story was co-written with Googlemouth. Originally posted 6.15.2011**

* * *

**Tuesday, 11:20 AM**

"This is Maura Isles. May I speak to Chris Koopman, please, if possible? Yes, I'll hold," said Maura, her smooth mezzosoprano voice audible through her mostly closed office door. Jane – Detective Jane Rizzoli, homicide detective for the Boston PD – didn't usually mind interrupting, but it was always possible that Maura's conversation was a very important one, or private. Rather than barge right in, Jane sat down on one of the stools that habitually stood in various corners around the room and waited for the conversation to end. A technician from the adjacent lab walked in with a file in hand and made for the office.

"She's on the phone," Jane said helpfully, catching the lab tech up short.

"Since this is for one of your cases, can I just leave it with you?"

Jane nodded, holding out her hand, and was rewarded with the file she'd been hoping to get. Having nowhere else to be, she decided to read the thing right here. If history had taught her anything, it was that whatever the lab results showed, she would need them interpreted by her best friend, the chief medical examiner of Boston. Besides, it was nearly time to break for lunch anyway, so she might as well just hang out down here. They'd promised one another that they would get out of the precinct and go grab a salad somewhere nearby, instead of just eating at their desks as usual.

As Jane visually skimmed the first page of the lab report, Maura's voice again floated out of the office. "Hello yourself, Chris. It's good to hear your voice, too." Jane didn't pay attention. Contrary to popular belief, she knew that Maura did have friends. Creepy dead people dissections or not, she was charming and pretty, and people responded to that kind of thing, at least till they found out what she did for a living. She read, not really listening to the medical examiner's conversation. She'd really like to absorb and understand at least a little of the report before her genius friend got done on the phone, so she didn't look quite so undereducated. _Metha-hydro-huh? Why would anybody want something in their bloodstream that they couldn't even spell or pronounce?_

"Well, yes, it has been a while. I've really missed your magic touch."

Jane's brow lifted. _What did she say?_ Then her common sense kicked in. Maura wasn't likely to say something like that. She must have misheard. _Nah. Couldn't be. Back to the report. What in the hell is tetra-whatsamatta? Substance found in wound. Hm. Probably important. Man, I should take a chemistry class or something._

"Mm, that sounds _terrific,_" Maura purred into the phone, and from where she was seated, Jane could just look in and see her eyes closing in… delight? No, that was anticipation. "How's tomorrow night, or better yet, this afternoon? I want to come as soon as possible."

Jane's eyebrows flew upward. _Say what?_ _Oh, now you've got my attention. You been holding out on me, Isles?_

Maura's laptop was already open in front of her, and she clicked on her calendar program. "Let me just make sure. Hm. An hour today, or a half-day on Saturday?" She whimpered, clicking the pen in her other hand open and closed, a classic sign of stress. "I really don't want to wait that long, but a half-day sounds like sheer bliss. Could I have you at both times?"

From surprise, Jane's expression morphed to disbelief.

A little, impatient sigh escaped Maura's lips. "I don't want to be too greedy with your time, Chris, but… Well, Paul is good, but you're the best, and you know _me_ best. You always give me just what I need, just the way I need it. Plus, he doesn't like working in tandem, and I really think I need both you and Julie this time. I've been _really_ needing some attention lately."

_Sweet Jesus._

"Great," Maura said with a disturbing amount of cheerfulness. "Then I'll be there this afternoon for a quickie, and then Saturday for the full session with Julie as well. See you then, Chris."

Jane closed the file with a snap and sauntered into her friend's office, knocking as she opened the door. "Okay, spill."


	2. Chapter 2

Maura whirled around, broad smile flashing quickly to alarm as she leapt halfway out of her chair. Seeing it was Jane, however, she subsided back into it, breath coming short. "You scared me," she explained unnecessarily.

Jane didn't seem to mind having startled the medical examiner, however. "Who was that, and why are you so super happy to have their _magic touch?_ Are you hiding a boyfriend from me… _again?"_ The detective crossed her arms, raised an eyebrow, and waited.

Maura started to answer, as she always did. However, the jolt soon gave way to defensiveness as Jane's accusatory facial expression registered in her awareness. She maintained her seat as she wondered, astounded, "Boyfriend? That's what you got out of the conversation on which you eavesdropped?"

"I wasn't really eavesdropping. That would mean that I was purposefully trying to hear what you were saying, which isn't true. I was sitting out there," Jane pointed to the stool outside the door, "looking over this," she held up the file, "while I waited for you," she pointed at Maura, "to get off the phone." She gestured to the phone. "You're the one who had their door cracked open, and it's really hard to _not_ at least hear some of what a person is saying when their door is cracked open and they're having a conversation. So, instead of just assuming that you're seeing someone but not telling me about it for _whatever_ reason, I thought I'd just ask you." She crossed her arms again, eyes daring the medical examiner to dispute what she'd just said.

Maura could not.

She could, however, maintain some sense of… something, she wasn't sure what. She, too, crossed her arms. Jane's arm crossing looked judgmental; her own felt defensive, which it had to be, because she'd done it second instead of first. That was Postural Studies 101. "There's no boyfriend." Her head tilted in a challenge, along with a raised eyebrow to match that of her best friend. She'd never been intimidating in her life, but perhaps arch would do.

"Okay, then, who was that?" With a roll of her eyes and a sigh, Jane uncrossed her arms and strolled the short distance across the office to walk around Maura's desk, place the file down in front of her friend, and lean against the side to face the honey blonde. "You don't strike me as the escort service type, so whatever it was you were talking about sounded a lot more suggestive than it probably was. But I've been a cop for a long time, and I'm me. You _know_ my mind is in the gutter half the time. Why don't you just tell me? Or," dark brown eyes narrowed in concern, "is this something you need to keep private?" She frowned. "You _can_ tell me to mind my own business. I'm naturally nosey, but I do know how to back off."

Maura's lips pursed, a sign that she was editing what she said, but at least she uncrossed her arms and affected a more relaxed posture. Seldom did she fail to actually consider any movement, posture, or word; everything was calculated, as Jane knew, to make her fit in better with what so many people considered to be the normal world. She usually failed, but she always made the effort at not making people uncomfortable around her.

"That was not a _personal_ arrangement that you overheard," she finally said in neutral tones, balanced perfectly between an invitation to ask more and a forbidding of the same. It was up to Jane whether she chose to track it down. "Chris happens to have become a friend, in the time of our acquaintance, but it did begin as a purely business relationship. And, no, that wasn't an escort service, though in point of fact, I've used an escort service before.

"An _escort,_ Jane," she emphasized, knowing well the direction in which her best friend's mind habitually ran. It was a job hazard, consistent with always seeing the worst of what humanity could do to one another. "I haven't always been in a relationship when some out-of-town function requires or expects me to attend accompanied by someone, and it's difficult to ask someone to go out of town with me for a weekend or a week when we're not that close. Arm jewelry, I believe, is the phrase for the service I was rendered. But you're right, that's also not exactly what that was."

"Arm _candy_," the detective chuckled.

"Oh." Maura thought it over, then decided it probably didn't actually matter. "Whatever."

Jane repeated, "The term is arm candy, not arm jewelry, which is something that you and I probably have equal amounts of problems with men thinking _we_ should be, so, if you had a little arm candy of your own, who am I to judge?" She shrugged. "Look, Maur, how many times am I going to have to ask you who that was before you either tell me to shut the hell up and mind my own business or you tell me who that was and what that was all about?" She shifted against the desk. "You don't normally beat around the bush about this stuff. What's up?"

Maura smiled, having gotten fairly quickly past the original offense of being overheard, and come to a place of easy amusement instead. Jane had that effect on her, which was a good portion of the reason they were such good friends. Her mood almost always improved when the detective was around. She had a way about her. "All right, well, think about what you heard, then, and tell me if there's an alternative explanation for it." _This ought to be good, as Jane likes to say. Go ahead, _detective,_ show me you deserve that badge. Seriously – boyfriend or gigolo? And what does she suppose Paul and Julie would be doing as a part of either type of relationship?_ "Humor me."

"Really? Maura, how many times do you tell me you don't like when I guess, assume, or uses hunches? Now," Jane wildly gestured with her hands, "you want me to do all three? Talk about a double standard!" She waved her hand, dismissing everything. "Fine, whatever. You don't want to tell me. I get it. That's fine. You could have just said that. Jeez." Again, she rolled her eyes before turning around to pick up the file. "Anyway, I came down here to ask you about the stuff in the file for the Krishnamurthi case. Do you have time now, or do you want to tackle it after lunch?" With a tilt of her head, she asked in a guarded tone, "Speaking of, are you still up for lunch, or do you have other plans?"

Glancing down at her Cartier watch, Maura considered. "Now is best. I'd like to just talk and relax a little over lunch, if that's okay. I've been very tense lately, and I think I'm becoming a bit cranky." She took a moment to evaluate the look on Jane's face. Was that irritation? Mild annoyance, at least. She could live with that. Maura was a woman of few boundaries, at least where her best friend was concerned, and felt that she needed to have a few, even if they were arbitrary, as she could admit to herself that this one was. "Now, what would you like to ask me about the Krishnamurthi case?"

* * *

The discussion of the pending Krishnamurthi case bled into their lunch hour, and they took the file to Jane's favorite sandwich shop for spuckies, partly as a conciliatory gesture on Maura's part. However, once the two left the shop, she headed out to whatever her appointment was, instead of back into the morgue. "I'll be back at the office at about two fifteen," she promised with a smile, already looking a little less cranky than she'd been for the past several days, at least. Thinking about it, the caramel brunette decided it would be worthwhile making an effort to become comfortable with the other homicide detectives as well, not just Jane Rizzoli, since she did have to work with all of them at some point. It was worthwhile, too, to make _them_ comfortable with _her._ All that Queen of the Dead business was amusing, she supposed, but not terribly productive. They worked with dead bodies, too, didn't they? "I'll be doing paperwork, but if you want to do it together, I can bring it upstairs and sit with the rest of you."

"Do whatever you want." Jane shrugged as she turned back to the station and walked away, posture tense.

Maura experienced a brief moment of regret. She did not enjoy shutting out her friend, but there had to be some boundaries between them. Didn't there?


	3. Chapter 3

There was always at least one desk in the homicide bullpen that wasn't being used, and there were a few chairs where the occasional witness would sit when giving initial accounts of whatever they had seen or heard. At 2:30 PM, Maura strode into the bullpen, having dropped off her purse and picked up some files and her laptop computer, and claimed the empty chair positioned to the left of Jane's desk. Her posture was no less ramrod straight than ever, but now it looked natural rather than pained, and the tension that had been in her face for a few weeks was gone. She was smiling. "Good afternoon," she greeted Jane, along with a few of the other detectives who were at work on similar pursuits – paperwork, record checking, other desk-related activities. Most of the responses were commensurate with their proximity to the pretty, but somewhat creepy, forensic pathologist. Those nearest looked up and generally smiled, while those furthest grunted something noncommittal and kept plugging away at their work.

A noncommittal grunt was exactly the response Jane gave before as she looked up from her paperwork before turning her attention back. Her eyes skimmed a report as she sipped her coffee, not bothering to say anything else. She did, however, scoot a bit further to the right to give Maura room. It wasn't much, but it was a start. Maura would take it. She occupied herself with transcribing written notes to typed ones, then pulled her iPod from her pocket and stuck in an earphone so she could transcribe spoken notes as well, the ones she recorded during every autopsy rather than having to keep changing gloves to write things down before going back in.

An hour passed in relative quiet, if not peace. Vince got up to make himself a coffee and got one for Maura; Barry did likewise a little later and offered some to Jane. Both men sensed some conflict between the two women, but neither felt like addressing it, since they were both silent on whatever their issue was today. Women were weird, Vince reflected, a product of his own generation. They got into snits every once in a while and no one knew why. Probably something related to boys, clothes, or That Time Of The Month.

Eventually, Maura closed the report she'd been working on and got up to hand it to Detective Crowe, since he was right nearby. "Here you go, Detective. This should help you to move forward. It _was_ homicide. Let me know if you need to discuss my findings." She even smiled at Crowe. At _Crowe,_ the asshole. Whatever she'd been doing right after lunch, it had apparently sat pretty well with her. Normally she treated Crowe with neutrality.

From her desk, Jane watched the interaction with a raised eyebrow, grunted under her breath, and returned her attention back to her own work. "Whatever," she grumbled under her breath as she clicked away on her keyboard.

"What gives, Janie?" asked Korsak as Rizzoli exhibited the grouchiness he had come to know and not-quite-love, since the days of Hoyt and before the Doc had come onto the scene to be awkward, flirty, pretty, and to calm down his former partner. "You've been grinding your teeth for over an hour now." As Maura stayed at Crowe's desk to help him over some of the more technical aspects of her discoveries in the Noguchi case, Korsak lowered his voice. "You two fighting?"

"No," Jane snapped as she stood up, grabbing her coffee cup. "Maura's just… just," she made a frustrated face. "She's doing something, and I don't know what, but she won't tell me, and I don't think she has any reason not to tell me, but she doesn't want me to know, which is _ticking me off_ the more I think about it because she _always_ asks me stuff, and I never don't tell her _just because_. I mean, what kind of friendship… _she_ just… man, whatever," she threw her free hand up in frustration. "I'm _trying_ not to pry. If she doesn't want me to know, then she doesn't want me to know, but I just think she's got some messed up double standard going on, and _that's_ what's ticking me off." She held her hand up. "I'm having a moment, and I'm out of coffee." She dropped her mug back down on her desk. "The coffee here is crap. I'm going out for the good stuff," she pulled her jacket on, covering her gun and badge, "and to cool down. I'm making way more out of this than it should matter. I know; you don't have to say it."

With a nod to Frost and a wave of her hand toward the half empty coffee pot, Jane left the bullpen and took the stairs.

Korsak looked over at Barry, one brow raising to ask, _Did you see that?_ Barry nodded, mouth open. After a moment, he said what both men were thinking. "I'm just going to keep my head down for a while." So far down did both of them put their heads, just to practice until Jane got back, that they didn't even notice Maura's look of dejection as she headed back for her seat at Jane's desk, only to realize that her best friend was not there.

* * *

**Wednesday, 8:20 AM**

Maura brought a cranberry-orange muffin and an enormous coffee, just the way Jane liked it, to set on the detective's desk. "Morning, Jane," she greeted with a subdued smile. Jane said nothing. Maura walked away.

**12:30 PM**

"Hey, Dr. Isles," Korsak greeted the doctor as she walked towards them. "You just missed Rizzoli. She's out interviewing a potential witness. She said she probably won't be back in for the rest of the afternoon."

Maura took a moment to consider whether she really wanted to know the answer to her question, but in the end she asked after all. "Did she tell you to tell me that?"

Korsak looked guilty. "No, she told me so I'd know. But I'm sure she'd want you to know, too. You always have lunch together when she's here."

Maura went back to the morgue to eat her Cobb salad alone.

* * *

**Thursday, 1:50 PM**

The medical examiner sighed as she completed her autopsy. Not once had her best friend come downstairs to ask for premature speculation concerning cause or time of death, reddish brown stains, or substances under the victim's fingernails. No phone calls, no visits, no nothing. Jane Rizzoli was incommunicado, at least to Maura. Frost had come down to mention that they were all headed to the Dirty Robber later, and she should join them. "Thanks, Barry," she responded, "but I'm fairly tired. I think I'm just going to go home."

It occurred to her as he was leaving that he had come down here, knowing there was likely to be a body on the table, just to invite her along. She called out, "Barry?" When he turned around at the door, still mercifully in control of his gag reflex, she favored him with a grateful and affectionate smile. He cared about her friendship with Jane more than Jane herself seemed to, lately. _No, that's not fair. I was the one who shut her out, and for no reason at all._ "Thank you for asking me. I'll see you tomorrow."


	4. Chapter 4

**Friday, 9:50 PM**

Maura missed Jane. Tuesday's appointment had helped at the time, but the effects were nullified entirely by the loss of conviviality and camaraderie that she normally shared with the detective. She had eaten lunches alone, except for the one on Tuesday in which Jane had seemed to drop the subject of where Maura went that afternoon. She had eaten dinners alone, with a non-responsive tortoise as company. She had watched nature programs, read scientific journals, worked on one of the papers she was publishing, taken extra time with her jogging and workouts, had even gone to the gym at times other than her usual just so Jane, who she knew was upset with her, wouldn't have to interact with her.

As she was looking up alternate yoga classes, something inside Maura snapped, followed likewise by the pencil in her hand. She sat at her desk, suddenly fuming and having it out with herself, as she had not done so far.

_Why should I be the one to rearrange _my_ life? This is worse than when I broke up with Garrett. But Jane and I didn't break up, for pity's sake! She's just irritated with me because I kept one little thing from her, and it wasn't even an important thing. Does she need to know every single thing about my life? Why do I need her _not_ to know? Don't best friends always know everything? But then what's the difference between a best friend and a therapist, or confessor, or an over-involved parent, or… This is ridiculous. But she started it, eavesdropping. I thought the door was closed, but she acted like I'd practically invited her to tap my phone. Oh, stop it, that's baseless hyperbole. _

_Still, she… she just pries into everything. I know she's a detective, but I'm not a criminal or a witness. She can't have all of me. There have to be limits somewhere. So what if this was something trivial? Jane's obviously placing a lot of importance on it. The more she asks, the less I want to tell her. Is this the kind of friend I'm becoming? The kind who, for no reason, dismantles the trust between us just so I can hold onto some arbitrary line I've drawn? Drat. I can't live like this._

Maura turned on her computer and opened her chat program.

**_Maura Isles 10:06 PM _**

**_Jane, I know it's late, but I'm glad you're online. At least, I hope you're online for real, and didn't just forget to shut down your chat program while you went out._**

**_Maura Isles 10:21 AM_**

**_You're out, aren't you? I'm sorry, don't bother replying. Have fun tonight. But I'd really like to see you tomorrow. I don't want to be at odds with you._**

**_10:23 AM_**

**_No, I'm online looking up ticket prices. What do you need, Maura?_**

**_Maura Isles 10:25 PM _**

**_I need to... I don't know. I need to get under myself, I guess._**

**_Jane Rizzoli 10:25 PM _**

**_I have no idea what that means, but I'm sure yoga class could help you with that._**

**_Maura Isles 10:26 PM _**

**_Did I say it wrong? Is it "get over myself?" I always get those mixed up. Anyway, I need to apologize, I think._**

**_Jane Rizzoli 10:27 PM _**

**_Okay._**

**_Maura Isles 10:27 PM _**

**_Also, I need to explain. Somewhat._**

**_Jane Rizzoli 10:28 PM _**

**_I'll give you 10 minutes._**

**_Jane Rizzoli10:33 AM_**

**_5 minutes._**

**_Maura Isles 10:33 PM _**

**_I shall attempt haiku brevity. I'm sorry that I don't tell you everything, but this really was an unimportant thing until... Well. Once I bought a new lipstick that was a much brighter and... well, less modest shade than I was really encouraged to wear. I hid it from my nanny. Though, by then, I suppose she was less of a nanny and more of a governess. She saw me hiding it and thought that the small, tube-shaped object was a hypodermic syringe for the administration of controlled substances into my body. The more she demanded to know what I was holding in my hand, the less I wanted to show it to her, because I didn't understand her concern and she didn't understand why I didn't want to show it to her. We sorted it out eventually, and she agreed that I shouldn't have been pressured, but I still had to give up my new lipstick, and I never really got over the fact that she hadn't trusted me. I don't want that to happen with us. I just... It's... Jane, this really is a tiny, unimportant thing, but it's become big because I feel pressured._**

**_Jane Rizzoli 10:36 PM _**

**_I asked you three times in the course of one conversation at the time it happened. Instead of telling me, "No, Jane, I don't want you to know" or "This is something I'd just like to keep to myself" or "It's none of your damned business, Rizzoli", you tapped danced around it and then wanted me to try to "guess". I'm not a puppet for your entertainment, Maura. If you don't want me to know something about your life, fine. I have no issue with that. I have an issue with you not being straight with me about it. When I don't want you to know something, I tell you that I don't want you to know._**

**_Maura Isles 10:38 PM _**

**_That's a fair assessment. I suppose my original resistance came from the fact that you heard me talking about preferring Chris to Paul, and needing Julie's help as well, and you went right from there to my having either a boyfriend or a gigolo. I was partly offended and partly amused. I think I held onto the offense and expressed it in a regrettably passive-aggressive way instead of just pointing out to you that your conclusions didn't make sense. I apologize for that._**

**_Jane Rizzoli 10:39 PM _**

**_I was being me and teasing you. In fact, I said at the time that I knew you weren't the type. You know me better than that, Maura._**

**_Maura Isles 10:40 PM _**

**_I do, and I should not have toyed with you. I'm so sorry, Jane. The first time you asked, I guess I was trying to create some form of... boundary? separation?... between us. It was irrational, I know, but I felt suddenly that I needed it, and I don't know why._**

**_Jane Rizzoli 10:41 PM _**

**_I even said, "Maura, if you don't want me to know, tell me. I'm nosy but I can back off", and you still acted like an ass. I'm pissed at you._**

**_Maura Isles 10:41 PM _**

**_I know you are, and you've every right to be. I'm trying to make things right, Jane, but I don't know how. I'm getting frustrated, too, and that isn't going to help this. May I come over tomorrow and maybe we can sort this out?_**

**_Maura Isles 10:42 AM_**

**_Unless you don't want to. I'd understand. I would hate that, but I would understand. I'm the one who broke this._**

**_Jane Rizzoli 10:42 PM _**

**_Broke what?_**

**_Jane Rizzoli 10:42 AM_**

**_Did you finally crack my favorite coffee mug?_**

**_Maura Isles 10:42 PM _**

**_This... this. Friendship. I'm not good at these._**

**_Jane Rizzoli 10:44 PM _**

**_Maura, I'm pissed. I'm not walking away. I just... look, I was going to go to a midnight showing of Rocky Horror with Frankie tonight. You want to come? I won the bet, and he's going to dress up like Frank N. Furter._**

**_Maura Isles 10:44 PM _**

**_I don't know what that means._**

**_Jane Rizzoli 10:44 PM _**

**_Say yes, come over, I'll pull up some reading material, and you can read it on the way to the movie theater._**

**_Jane Rizzoli10:44 AM_**

**_Also, bring a camera._**

**_Maura Isles 10:44 PM _**

**_A camera? What is this for? Movie theater... So, dress warmly, yes?_**

**_Jane Rizzoli 10:45 PM _**

**_T shirt and jeans will do for you... this time._**

**_Maura Isles 10:47 AM_**

**_All right. I'll be right over._**

Maura shut down her chat program and ran to the bedroom, where she quickly shucked her bedtime attire in favor of a white silk/cotton blend T-shirt and jeans, some pretty red heels she had recently bought, and then grabbed her purse. She was halfway to the car before she remembered the camera. There was no way she would neglect the one request Jane had made of her in the past four days.


	5. Chapter 5

Maura stood on Jane's doorstep, barely twenty minutes after they had broken off computer contact, wiping sweaty palms on the thighs of her jeans. Did a movie invitation mean that Jane wasn't prepared to abandon their friendship? It seemed so. She had said so, at least, and she could at least trust Jane not to play with her emotions. _Like I did with hers. I'm horrible._

Did it mean that their fight, or their non-fight, was temporarily halted? She hoped so. There would have to be conversations, and more apologies, and probably a lot of tears – she felt fragile just now, as if everything was much closer to the surface than usual – but maybe they would be okay, once she could explain everything. It would take a while, and as it was already late in the evening, she had brought her overnight bag, in case they reverted to pattern and held a sleepover after this movie, whatever it was. But just so as not to appear presumptuous, she left it in the car, and thus had nothing in her hands at all. Her keys were in a front pocket, and money and ID were in a slimline wallet in the back.

Once again, Maura wiped her hands on her jeans. She went to knock, but didn't. Went to press the bell, but didn't. Dug into her pockets for her key to Jane's apartment, but left them in there, not wanting to barge in while they were… tense with each other. She frowned, unsure. _Well, at least Chris and Julie will really earn their pay tomorrow,_ she thought ruefully. _I'm tighter than a violin's E-string tuned sharp._

The door swung open. "God, I thought you were Frankie about to chicken out!" Jane reached a hand, grabbed Maura by the arm, and tugged her in. "He should be here any minute now, and… did you bring a camera like I asked?" The detective frowned as she gave her friend the once over to look for the camera.

Maura's eyes bulged at Jane's appearance. Dressed in black heels, black spandex pants, a well-fitted white tux shirt, and with a black tux jacket draped over her arm, she looked odd to say the least. "Man! Maura, you have to help me find my camera. Frankie is _not_ getting out of having pictures of him dressed up as Frank N. Furter. Here." She dropped the jacked on the back of her sofa and handed the doctor a stack of papers. "I printed this out for you so you'd know where we're going, what we're doing, and why it's awesome." She grunted in frustration. "I have to find my camera."

"Uh," Maura started to reply as her hand opened to accept the papers, ever the articulate genius, as she stared at Jane, struck mute. "Uh… Oh." She shook her head, still mystified, then gestured out the door in the direction of the parking spot she had taken. "It's in the glove compartment. I… Yes, clearly we'll need pictures." She gave Jane another quick glance over. "Of Frankie. Will he be dressed like you?"

"No, oh no." Jane stopped digging through the drawer of her sofa table. "He's going to be dressed like Frank N. Furter. Read. There're pictures." She pointed at the stack of papers she'd handed her friend. "I'm going to call him and see where he is." She pulled her phone from a rather inconspicuous hiding place in what appeared to be her bra. "If you have questions, ask me after I get off the phone, okay?" She hit the speed dial for her brother. "We're going to be late if he doesn't get his butt here soon."

Maura nodded, acquiescing to the instructions. For the sake of a truce, she would go a long way, including reading things when she could be staring at Jane's odd appearance. However, before she could bend her eyes and mind to the pages thrust upon her, she did head out to the car to grab the camera. On the way back in, she surreptitiously took half a dozen shots of Jane.

_Knock knock._

Maura started towards the door, since Jane was still on the phone, but when she heard keys jingling, stayed where she was. Rizzolis always knocked right before barging in. It was more polite that way. The door swung open, and there he was, Frankie N. Furter. Maura's jaw dropped.

"I'm here. I'm here. Stop buzzing me. Where I had to put my phone is… uncomfortable." Frankie made a face. "Look, can we go and get this over with? And I'm not dancing _or_ singing." He glanced around the room. "Hey, Maura." He glanced at her attire and then back to his sister. "Virgin?"

"Yup." Jane grinned as she pulled on her well fitted tux jacket, interrupting the perfectly correct, yet entirely wrong, protest Maura was about to make.

"Nice." Frankie grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Can't wait to see how that ends tonight."

"Me, too. Now, let's go. Maura, can you drive since you have pockets to carry your keys?" Jane waited for her friend to say something.

"Yes," Maura replied, once she had shaken back into proper awareness. Very slowly, she drew the camera back up to her face and immortalized Frankie's appearance in another half dozen shots. For the second time in less than half an hour, she shook her head forcefully, then led the way to the car. "However, I should probably correct an assumption that both of you seem to have felt the need not only to make, but actually to _voice,_ concerning my sexual history. As it happens…"


	6. Chapter 6

Frankie had not disappointed. When he lost a bet, he lost it with good grace, both Maura and Jane had to admit. His costume had been spot-on, along with a mostly decent accent as he shouted out the actual character lines rather than the callbacks, and participated in an onstage contest for best costume. He didn't win, but his dancing wasn't bad. Instead of making fun of him, Jane even wound up giving him mad props, in between explaining to Maura what the hell was going on.

She, too, had been something of a hit: the oldest virgin in the crowd. Maura had been pulled up onto the stage with several other virgins, most of whom were similarly underdressed, and had admitted to being over thirty. When no one else admitted it, they were all sent back to their seats. Maura, on the other hand, had been kissed good and hard by every single live performer in the show. Well, stage kissed – it looked good, but there wasn't even any real lip contact, except for that one enthusiastic cast member, whose gender remained shrouded in doubt.

Then the evening's master of ceremonies had leaned in to ask if she had anything on under that T-shirt, and had covered up his microphone to whisper in her ear, "It's traditional for us to take someone's shirt off, but you don't have to. We do have an audience shill who's prepared for it, if you'd rather not." To her own surprise, she had simply lifted up her arms over her head, and two cast members had rushed up behind her. Their local Magenta had whooshed the shirt off and mostly-pretended to grope Maura's upper body while the rest of the cast tossed her shirt around for a while. They had taught her the Time Warp, then sent her back to her seat laughing, then brought the shirt back to her at her seat just before the lights were lowered. She had tied the long sleeves around her neck and let it hang off her for the duration of the festivities, high on adrenalin.

* * *

Tuxes and tights, jeans and leather jackets, boxers and undershirts, glittery gold jackets and striped shorts, maid uniforms, ratty butler attire, futuristic what-in-the-worlds, bras and half-slips, merrywidows and fishnets all spilled out of the theater, accompanied by raucous, hoarse voices yelling, singing off key, and laughter. Bright lipstick, garish eye makeup, wigs of all kinds: these were Rocky Horror Picture Show fans the world over, out to find their all-night diners so they could scarf down fried foods and coffee, then sleep it off until Monday morning arrived, turning them all back into students, accountants, bank tellers, tattoo artists, junior high school history teachers, cops, and medical examiners.

"That was amazing!" Maura enthused as she led the way back to the car, hair and eyes wild, smile unbreakable. "Does this happen often? I want to do it again!"

"Once every couple of weeks or so." Jane's smile was bright as she watched her friend bounce toward the car. "Frankie and I normally go, but he's normally not Frank N. Furter."

"I will be now! That was awesome!" Frankie waited for Maura to unlock the car so he could climb into the back seat. "Also, nice bra, Maura. Did you know they were going to do that before you came or something? I mean… wow."

"Hey!" Jane snapped as she gave her brother a dark, threatening look. "That's my," she glanced at Maura and did a double take as if just now seeing that the doctor was still actually in just a bra and jeans, "My… um, yeah… Maura, that _is_ a nice bra. Where did you get that?" The detective's eyes were fixed on the garment. "La Perla?"

Maura's head tipped to the side for a moment of non-comprehension, but when understanding dawned, she looked… not at all mortified, actually. Embarrassed, yes, pink-cheeked, but laughing instead of fuming. Each sibling got a weak slap in the arm, both with her right hand. "Why didn't either of you remind me before I walked out in public? I could have been arrested! You two are trouble." But she laughed again, eyes lifting to the skies as if inviting the universe to share the fun she was having, as she untied the shirt's long sleeves from around her neck and started to pull it on. "No, it's not La Perla. I think I got this one at Victoria's Secret. La Perla is _not_ for everyday use. Though, I think if I'd realized that I would be on display, I would have considered it occasion enough to wear it."

Frankie's eyebrows shot up as he watched Maura putting on the shirt. While her face was covered by the fabric, he glanced towards his sister to see her reaction. Siblings often communicated silently, and his look would have been readable even by a total stranger: _She's got stuff that's _better_ than this?_

Jane missed the question. Her eyes were still glued on Maura. "Victoria's Secret?" The question was more-or-less croaked out of the detective's suddenly dry throat. "I don't remember seeing any like that in the store."

"Special order, custom fit," explained Maura as she led the way to the car.

The darker brunette blinked rapidly a few times, shook her head, and walked around the car. "So, anyway, Frankie, you want us to stop by your place so you can change? Then we can run by place so I can, and maybe we can go out for something? I'm really hungry all of the sudden."

"Yeah," Frankie replied as Maura started up the car, apparently still thrumming with excitement and fine with whatever the two Rizzolis wanted to do. "Yeah, let's change. Except I brought a change in my car, so we can just go back to yours and not have to make two stops. Uh… but we might want to get Maura something to wear." Sometime during the show, probably around the time she'd finished being stage-kissed by the whole cast and returned shirtless to her seat, he had finally stopped calling her Doc, figuring that if this didn't put them on a first-name basis, pretty much nothing ever would. "That white T-shirt, it's a little, um, well, you might win a contest if we go anywhere." At the next stop light, she looked down at herself, tensed for a moment, then laughed at the effects of the sheen of perspiration and liberal water gun shooting in the theater, still evident on her skin and the fabric. They'd both already seen what was under it. The horses had already left the stable, so it was a bit late to be worried about closing the door now.

"May I borrow a shirt when we get to your place, Jane?" Maura asked, just to be sure. "And maybe your shower? I promise, five minutes or less."

Jane was staring. "Um… yeah, sure. Use me… my _stuff _however you want." She closed her eyes, wincing a little. "Borrow whatever you need. We should all probably take a turn in the shower anyway. It was hot in the theater." She turned her head to gaze out the passenger's window and away from the driver.

All the way back to Jane's house, Frankie and Maura sang the Floor Show, which Maura had memorized. She was on key, but she had no real singing voice, just a little cuteness in the way she pronounced everything so precisely. No one cared.


	7. Chapter 7

They were on their umpteenth chorus, with Maura singing the female parts and Frankie the male parts, but sometimes overlapping one another on especially fun phrases, by the time they pulled into the same parking spot Maura had vacated earlier. "Well it was great when it all bega-an! I was a regular Frankie fa-an…" She broke off giggling at Frankie (Rizzoli, not Furter), who was shimmying in the back seat, as she turned off the engine. "Shh, we don't want to wake up Jane's neighbors or make Jo Friday start barking."

"I get first shower!" Frankie immediately claimed. "You're girls. I'll be faster."

"That's what _she_ said," Jane snarked as she stepped out of the car. "Maura, will you come with me while I walk Jo? I'm just going to put on a pair of sneakers first." She glanced behind her to give the doctor a pleading look before opening her apartment door.

Willingly, Maura headed right back out into the night with Jane, see-through T-shirt, red heels, and all.

* * *

"So, I'm guessing you liked the show?" Jane asked as she opened her door again and let her little dog take off to the water bowl.

Maura nodded, stealing a glance up at her friend. Or, really, across – in heels that high, she matched Jane's height when the latter was in sneakers. "It was a brilliant demonstration of social dynamic, as well as causing very pleasurable sensations through the release of adrenalin and endorphins. I'd enjoy going again sometime."

"Thought you might." Jane was smiling broadly. Between the time at the theater and walking Jo, things had settled back down to how they normally were. "Frankie's such a liar. He always took the longest of the three of us in the shower. Hear that?" The sound of running water could be heard. "He's still in there." Maura decided to forego commentary on what a healthy male might need with an extra-long shower, right after being in a roomful of fairly scantily-clad people, then in a car of one scantily-clad woman, while wearing something he presumably would find well outside his usual comfort zone. Though an only child herself, Maura had observed that sibling relationships were delicate things, and Jane didn't need to have that thought about her brother.

Shaking her head and motioning for Maura to follow her, Jane walked into her bedroom. "So, which shirt do you want to borrow?"

Maura took off her heels while following her taller brunette friend, hopping on one foot as the other was up for shoe removal. "Whatever's handy," she replied agreeably. "Preferably not more than twenty-five percent polyester, but I'm easy." Beggars couldn't be choosers. Jane was still angry with her, deservedly so, but she had been more than gracious tonight, and the smaller woman had no inclination to push her luck. "I'm sure I won't be wearing it for long, anyway."

In mid dig at her dresser drawer, Jane stopped to look up at the other woman. Eyes suddenly wide, breath catching just a little, she swallowed hard.

"Right? Because I'm just going to wear it to wherever we go to eat, and then I'll bring everyone back here, and be changing for bed at… wherever I'm sleeping," Maura explained helpfully. The water shut off in the bathroom, and one could hear vague rustling sounds as Frankie dried off and dressed.

"Huh," was all that escaped Jane's lips before she glanced back down to pull out a 100% cotton, crimson fitted t-shirt. "This should work. It's a little big on me, so I'm thinking it should be okay for your," she made a vague motion in front of her own chest as her cheeks blushed slightly, "you know."

Maura accepted the shirt with a smile. Sometime during the walk with Joe, she had calmed down from the immediate high of her first Rocky Horror Picture Show, settling into something that wasn't quite comfortable since she and Jane had been conflicted, but wasn't too badly uncomfortable, either. Fatalistic, perhaps. She would do whatever it took, whatever was within her ability, to fix the hurt feelings she had caused, but right now, it was still up to Jane. "Thank you. I'm sure it will be fine. If it's not, well, I'm unlikely to see anyone again that I'm seeing at… what, two-thirty in the morning?... and at least none of my patients ever have to respect me in order for me to do my job."

"Next up?" called Frankie as the door swung open. Maura headed into the bathroom and Frankie passed her in the hallway, essentially trading places with her. "Hey, sis," he said in a lowered voice as Jane fished around for her own change of clothing, "you been feeling okay? You seem a little bit off tonight."

"Yeah, I'm cool. Just," she pulled out another fitted t-shirt, this one a deep green, and a pair of light jeans with one knee almost gone, "trying to get over being mad at Maura, you know? I forget that she sometimes doesn't deal well with living people." She tossed her clean clothes on the bed and pulled off the jacket to hang up. "Why? Am I still being pissy? I'm trying to not be pissy with her right now."

Once again, the water started in the next room, along with the little slip of metal as the shower curtain rings were pushed aside, then drawn back into place. "What did she do?" Frankie asked. "I mean, don't tell me the nitty-gritty stuff that girls do to each other to make each other mad. What did she _do?"_ In his way, he was getting right to the point: not really what Maura did, but what was the essence of the hurt that had inspired the anger?

"I overheard a phone conversation of hers, and, when I asked her about it, she didn't tell me to eff off or whatever. She beat around the bush about it, and then wanted me to 'guess' like I was some kind of monkey for her amusement. You and I both know that, if you don't want me to know something about what you're doing, I'm fine with that. I have no issues. But, I do have issues when someone isn't being straight with me. You know what I mean? When I don't want someone to know something about me, I tell them to mind their own damned business. I don't just string them along and smirk about it." His big sister was on a roll now that she was actually talking about it.

"She knows better, Frankie. I would never judge her. Tease her, sure, but not judge her. She's my best friend. I love her. Why would I," Jane stopped talking for the breadth of a second, an odd expression crossing her face, "_Like_ her. I _like_ her like a sister, right? So, why would she treat me like crap? Anyway, I'm trying to let that just be water under the bridge, but that's what happened."

Frankie took a long moment even after his sister had stopped talking, watching her facial expressions change. As she finished gathering up post-shower clothes, he nodded once as if deciding something, then let it go entirely. "Did she know she was wrong? Did she say she was sorry?" He waited for an affirmative answer, then went on. "Okay, then, is that the only problem? Because if it is, Janie, every single year of my life as a kid, you'd make me try to guess what you got me for Christmas and my birthday. Isn't that the same thing? I didn't mind it. Guessing games like that made me think. It was fun. Maybe she thought you'd have fun guessing, too. I mean, she's not… she's not exactly normal, is she? But she's got a good heart."

"Hey, watch your mouth. I don't want to even hear you _imply_ that Maura is strange," Jane shot back, almost instinctively. "This was different Frankie. It wasn't like when I want you to guess about a present or something. This was… you know, it's complicated. Look, I'm trying to let it go. She said she didn't want to give all of herself to me, and I can respect boundaries. I just wish she respected me enough to tell me when she decided we needed them." The elder Rizzoli frowned deeply. "Can you leave so I can undress? I need peel these pants off, and, frankly, it's a little weird with you in my bedroom."

Frankie's eyes went the tiniest bit wide, but though he couldn't change that to save his life, he could turn around and head out of his sister's bedroom as fast as possible. He nearly bumped into Maura, now dressed in Jane's T-shirt, the same jeans from before, and with hair slightly damp in places where she hadn't been able to keep it out of the shower's spray. "Come on out here with me," he cautioned her. "Janie's getting undressed." Maura followed the broad-shouldered Rizzoli male out to the living room without a backward glance. _Now she can't even undress with me in the room? I really did hurt her badly._


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey, Maura, can I ask you a question?" Frankie began conversationally as he opened Jane's fridge to look for something to drink.

"Of course, Frankie." The relatively small woman snuck in under his arm to grab a bottle of mineral water of the kind she knew Jane kept there for her sake.

"What did you and Jane fight about?" He pulled out a jug of milk, set it on the counter, and gathered two glasses from the dish strainer. The shower started up for the third time that night.

Maura took one glass for her mineral water and poured almost simultaneously with Frankie, though she was first to put her bottle back into the refrigerator. "We…" She sighed. "I withheld information. It didn't start out to be important, but it became important _because_ I withheld it. Jane thought I was trying to toy with her, and if I look at it from a perspective other than mine, I suppose it could feel that way to her."

She led the way towards the couch and sat on it cross-legged, drinking her mineral water for a moment as she thought of how to explain it. "Throwing the ball for Jo Friday is fun for Jo, but it also amuses the person doing the throwing, doesn't it? Hiding Easter eggs is supposed to be fun for the kids, but it's really more fun for the adults. Any time someone plays with someone else, no matter how benevolent the conscious intent, there is an element of, of, of power imbalance at the heart of it. Even in baseball, there's an imbalance. Social theory states that… Well, never mind, it doesn't matter." Again Maura sighed, though this time she tried to quiet it a little and mask it by shifting posture on the couch. "I think Jane had a moment in which she thought I was trying to _create_ a power imbalance between us, rather than understanding that it was simply the nature of play. And, and, and I erected a completely arbitrary barrier between us, because I was being selfish. I don't really know how I'm going to make her see that I really am sorry. She was really great to set all that aside for a little while tonight, but I know she's still angry."

"I don't think she's mad at you anymore," Frankie stated matter-of-factly as he claimed the chair by the sofa. "In fact, I know she's not. Trust me on this one. Something else is bothering her that's got nothing to do with your guys' little argument." He took a swig of his milk. "You read facial expressions, right?"

Maura nodded, not quite able to trust that Frankie was correct in his assessment, but heartbreakingly obvious in her hope that he was.

"So, let me ask you something else. When you read Janie's facial expressions, like tonight for example, if you didn't think she was mad at you, what _would_ you think she was thinking?" He leaned back as if he'd made some amazing, earth shattering statement and sipped his milk, waiting.

Hazel eyes closed as she replayed the entire night from the perspective of someone who had spent almost as much time watching her friend as watching the movie or the outlandish appearance and behavior of their fellow audience members. Her eyelids rippled as she actually looked at various aspects of the memories, zooming in and re-focusing as if it were right in front of her still.

"Confusion," she said after a good two or three minutes of silence, tentative at first, then more certain as she repeated it. "Doubt, discovery. Je…" Her eyes flew open as she stopped herself mid-word. _Jealousy. Oh. Oh, dear._ "I don't think I should say anything else. If Jane wants anyone to know what's on her mind, she tells them. I think she would not thank me for exposing her if I'm right, which I might not be. I could be badly mistaken. It isn't a perfect or exact science. Facial expression study is still in its infancy, and all one can say is that a given muscle movement indicates a _likelihood_ of this or that emotion, not that it is _always_ indicative of that emotion."

"I think you're right on the money, and I could have told you that _without_ all that stuff you just did." He shrugged. "She's had a few slipups recently, and I'm thinking I know why. I was just wondering if you'd figured it out, too. I'm guessing that, based on your scared look, you just did. So," he finished his milk and stood to go to the kitchen. "What are you going to do about it?" He didn't bother to pause as he continued on. "You know, she said she felt like you didn't respect her enough to tell her when you'd decided to put up personal boundaries." Stopping at the sink, he began rinsing and cleaning his glass.

Maura knew – and so would any detective or police officer worth his salt – that everyone's facial expressions changed naturally every few seconds, at least. Maura's did not. Not one whit. Not for about triple the length of time that it customarily did. Then she looked down at her hands, cupping the sweating water glass between them, dripping with moisture. She was concealing. Not quite enough, however. True contrition entered her voice, quieted her demeanor. "She was… And she heard me speaking to Chris, and she heard me saying I missed… Oh, God. And then about Paul, and Julie, and… Oh, Frankie, no wonder she's so steamed at me. She must think I'm some sort of… This is awful. And Jane thinks I don't respect her? Nothing could be further from the truth. God, all I wanted was to keep her – no, that's not true. I wanted to keep _myself_ safe."

Neither of them were aware of the moment when the water stopped. Neither of them had noticed a fully dressed, wet-haired Jane approaching from the bathroom, pausing in the hallway door to listen. Her instincts told her something was going on in the other room. With a quietness learned at an early age as the oldest of three, Jane stood still to hear what her friend and brother were saying.

"Safe from what? From Jane?" Frankie put the glass back in the strainer to dry. "Maura, she's the _last_ person you have to keep yourself safe from. I mean, she's practically your knight in shining armor. Remember when you were kidnapped. We thought she was going to tear the city apart looking for you, and you know how she is with the other cops whenever they want to give you shit. Why would you want to keep yourself from Jane? My sister's your safe place." He shook his head as he headed back to his chair.

Throughout Frankie's little speech, Maura's breathing had gotten quieter and less natural, as if she had to focus to keep it regular. Her face reddened, and her body seemed to shrink in on itself despite her disciplined posture. "Stop," she tried but failed to say more than once, but when he called Jane her safe place, it finally became audible. _"Please, stop."_ Her hazel eyes went dark as she fought to keep the shine inside them rather than spill it. "Frankie, I _can not_ think of her that way. I'm already too… Just… stop. _Please,_ don't say these things to Jane. Promise, Frankie. She doesn't want to be that for me."

"You clearly don't know my sister as well as I think you do if that's what you think." Frankie stood up again. This time, he grabbed his keys. "For a genius, you really need to work on your understanding of people. I'm leaving. You two need to talk, and I don't need to be here for that." He pulled his jacket on and grabbed his bag.

"Look, you take my advice and just be straight with Janie. That's all she's ever asked you to do, and, if you haven't run her off with your Google talk, yoga classes, and marathons, you're not going to run her off by talking about the real reason you don't want to give all of yourself to her. _That_ I can promise you." With a roll of his eyes and some grumbling about women making things unnecessarily complicated, he left.

Even before the door had closed behind Frankie, Maura had started bending, her spine closing down over her lap like a compact with no one left to look into it, arms forming a loose, broken circle up around her head. She permitted herself one low, mournful sob, then silenced it entirely and stood, looking for her heels, so as to make a quick escape. She could not face Jane tonight. Maybe tomorrow, after her appointment with Chris.

_Except the damned shoes are in the bedroom._ Maura sighed and headed for the door barefoot. She would call tomorrow and explain, apologize, try to mend everything, but there was no way she could sleep here tonight. Not now, not when Frankie had made her look at… it. It existed now. He had all but named it and gotten it baptized.

"If you leave, I'll be even _more_ pissed at you." Jane's voice was quiet but stern as it floated through the quiet of the room.


	9. Chapter 9

Maura froze, one hand on the door. She could not bring herself to claim that she hadn't been about to do so. Even if Jane wouldn't notice, the attempted lie would still stain her. "I have an overnight bag in my trunk." _Please believe that's where I was going. Stuff it, she won't believe. I'm not wearing shoes._ She turned around. "But, um. I should probably have shoes on while I go get it."

"You think?" Arms crossed, eyes tired, the lanky brunette padded quietly across the room. Without a word, she took the smaller woman's hand and led them both to sit down on the sofa. "Maura, I'm going to say some stuff. Just let me, okay? Once I say it, you can do whatever you want to do, but… but I need to say this before you run away, okay?"

Maura did not suppress her wince, but she nodded, giving permission for the hurt she was certain Jane would inflict, the damage that would soon be hers to hold tight inside her.

"You've always triggered my protective streak. I always thought it was because you were the underdog, and I have a habit of fighting for the underdog, but, over this past week while I've been mad at you and trying to figure out why, I realized it was… something else. I'm not going to lie; I'm pretty freaking terrified about it," Maura winced again, "but I'm _not_ terrified to be your safe place." With a heavy sigh, the detective clasped her hands in her lap and looked down at the floor. "I mean, I think we're pretty much each other's safe places, aren't we? But, we don't have to be if you don't want to be. If you don't want to let me in on some part of your life, I can accept that. It might take me some time, but I _can_ accept it. I just," she glanced back at the other woman, face full of a unique pain that Jane didn't often show to people, "want you to know that, even when I shut other people out, I don't shut you out." She shrugged. "I just thought you should know."

_Where's the pain?_ Maura wondered. _She has things to say. She's been angry at me since Tuesday. Where's the pain? Is there more coming? This all sounds very… not painful. How can she be mad at me for this long and not hurt me? When is the rest coming? What's happening? _

For too long, she stayed still, unable to summon the wits for a rational response. In a swift motion, Jane stood and walked to her bedroom coming back out a quick moment later with Maura's heels. "I guess you want these, right?"

Wordlessly, she took the bright red shoes and slipped them on, looking every bit as confused as she felt, and more. She stood awkwardly for a moment, then turned and walked out the front door.

Nodding to herself, Jane slowly stood up and walked quietly to her kitchen. With slow, tired movements, she pulled down a short glass, filled it with ice, and poured a bit of whiskey over it all from a small bottle she kept hidden at the back of one her cabinets. With an internal sigh, she held the liquid up to the light, looking through it as she thought about what to do next.

Less than five minutes later, Maura let herself back in the front door, carrying her overnight bag. She took it into Jane's bedroom and set it down, then returned to stand near the kitchen counter, opposite Jane. "This time you _were_ eavesdropping," she said without rancor. "If you'll tell me what you heard just now, and Tuesday, I'll tell you everything else you want to know. I promise not to toy with you, Jane. That was never what I wanted to do to you."

"Okay," she poured the untouched drink down the drain, carefully set her glass down, and stood in the kitchen for a moment before beginning to speak. She carefully relayed everything she had heard both days. After finishing, she said in a voice filled with exhaustion, "I eavesdropped today because something told me it would be a good idea to see what Frankie was up to. I won't apologize for doing it. I'm glad I did. I didn't mean to eavesdrop the first time. It was just incidental."

The idea of an apology for eavesdropping was apparently foreign to Maura's mental state. She let that go and instead said, "What you heard on Tuesday was me setting an appointment for a professional service, or rather, several services, which will take about five hours for Chris and Julie to perform for me. Chris is my aesthetician. Aesthetics is a branch of philosophy that deals specifically with the nature of beauty, art, taste, and the creation and appreciation thereof. In this case, the term applies to the practical and clinical study and fostering of beauty."

She offered a hand to Jane, angling her body to indicate the desire for them both to go and sit on the couch, rather than keep standing after such a long day and an even more energetic night. "Chris is a clinical aesthetician who works at a salon. Tomorrow… well, later today, I have an appointment for a half-day treatment. Hair, nails, face, skin, waxing, and finally a full-body massage by one of the other clinic employees, a massage therapist named Julie. She's brilliant at her work, but I assure you, she does it for me only on a professional basis. She would not do it for me if I didn't pay her."

"This is what you didn't want to tell me?" The detective's voice was still tired, still worn. She gave a humorless chuckle as she settled on her usual end of the couch. "It's not even about what you're doing or where you're going. I'm not your mom, Maura. I'm not here to police what you do. I just wish you'd told me it was none of my business instead... well, we've already had that conversation."

Maura's head shook gently as she sat, not quite at the far end of the couch, but within easy reach if Jane should decide that she wanted to do so. "It was never about hiding that information, Jane. It was because when you came into my office, it sounded like you were demanding information that I _owed_ to you, rather than casually asking a friend a simple question. I handled it very poorly, but when you asked me in that confrontational way, I felt I needed to assert some sort of boundary, even though it wasn't even about anything all that crucial. Maybe _because_ it wasn't crucial, and therefore if I weakened and gave in, I wouldn't be giving up anything of value."

"That's just how I am, Maura. You know that. I was being playful, and we've had this conversation, too. I don't really want to kick an almost dead horse." Jane groaned loudly as she ran a hand through her hair as she thought about what she was saying, "I really don't know what to do from here. What," she glanced over to the other woman before pulling her gaze down to the ground again before the couch, "do you think we should do, Maura? What would you _like_ to do? Whatever you want, I'm game. If you want to talk more, we can. If you want to sleep, I could sleep, too. If you want to leave," her frown deepened, "I'll understand."

"Well," Maura began, but caught up short as she had to ask, "Are you still mad at me? I don't want to go to bed fighting or in doubt about us. I don't think I would rest very well, and I'd just toss and turn and keep you awake, too. I don't want to leave, though, not unless you'd be uncomfortable with me staying. But I could talk, or I could sleep if we're okay." Pause. "That wasn't meant to make it sound like a hostage situation, in which you aren't permitted to sleep until you claim to be happy. I just meant…"

A grin playing on her features, Jane leaned forward and placed a finger gently over Maura's lips, effectively silencing her. "No, I'm not mad. Yes, I want you to stay even if you did toss and turn and keep me up all night." She slowly removed her finger, the smile still in her eyes. "Let's get ready for bed, and we can talk once we're settled in. That way, if we fall asleep, at least we're in the right spot. Sound good?"

As Jane leaned in, so did Maura, and found herself well hushed. But just as she had echoed the lean, she mirrored the smile, too. "Sounds good."


	10. Chapter 10

A scant few minutes later, Maura emerged from the bathroom, teeth brushed, face washed, and clad in silky (knowing her, probably actual silk) pajama shorts and tank top in periwinkle blue. "Should I turn off the light now so we don't have to get up once we get tired, or leave it on while we talk?" Her hand hovered over the light switch.

"Shut it off. Full moon, there'll be plenty of light," Jane scooted down a bit further in the bed, pulling her grey tank top down where it wanted to ride up over her underwear. She stifled a yawn before reaching over to Maura's side of the bed to throw the covers back. "Come to bed, Maur."

A look started to come across Maura's face at the phrasing of the request, wide eyes and slightly open mouth. Before the look could be fully formed, let alone deciphered, she hurriedly looked away from Jane and flipped the light switch. Moments later, her eyes adjusted sufficiently to let her find the bed without stepping on Jo Friday, who had suddenly sensed that bedtime was nigh, and trotted in from wherever she'd been hiding and curled up on the pile of pillows that had been moved off the bed for sleeping purposes. She slipped beneath the covers without a word, and only then mentioned, "You know, cotton attire against cotton sheets will produce friction." The lack of response prompted her to clarify. "That's why your shirt rides up when you move around in bed."

Jane shrugged. "It's comfortable and, besides when you're not here, it doesn't matter if it rides up or not," she said as she rolled onto her side to face the doctor. "Besides, I'm not worried if it does ride up when you're here." Again she stifled a yawn. "So, we're talking? What are we going to say?"

Maura remained on her back, hands folded neatly over her stomach. "Well, we've covered what you overheard while I was on the phone. I suppose now what's left is what you overheard from the hallway; and Jane, before you decide whether to get defensive, I don't mind that you listened. Much. Just tell me what you want to know. I promised full disclosure. Anything you feel like you can ask, I'll answer as well as I can."

"What did you read in my face that you didn't want to tell Frankie? Why did you beg him to not say anything to me? What are you so afraid of, Maura?" The huskiness of Jane's voice was tempered by the softness of her volume as she asked her questions quietly and a carefully.

Maura glanced in Jane's direction, but it wasn't enough, and so she turned bodily to face Jane. Moonlight shone in through the windows, illuminating round and angular features with its silver caress. She was transparent. "I wasn't afraid, Jane. I was… surprised. I hadn't known you felt that way, but once I did, I really didn't want to tell your brother. I thought you'd be uncomfortable with him knowing." She took a breath and let it out, then released the information. "I didn't know that you were jealous until Frankie asked me what I'd seen."

"S'okay," Jane replied as she readjusted so that they were eye to eye. "I didn't know until after I had a couple of days to be pissed about it. Around the second day, I realized it was stupid that I was still _that_ mad, but I couldn't figure out why." She frowned, brow creasing. "Then it kind of came to me one night when I couldn't sleep. Well," she raised any eyebrow, mouth pursed for a brief second as she reconsidered, "it didn't so much come to me as slap me upside my head like a Mack truck slamming into a brick wall while going about 80." She chuckled as Maura opened her mouth, but cut her off at the pass. "Please don't give me the basics on whatever stats just ran through your head. It's cute, and I love it when you Googletalk, but it's also 3AM, so... you know, some brevity is appreciated." She said the last sentence with a smirk and a wink, to which the smaller woman responded with a warm smile.

Hazel eyes, shadowed to dark grey but still glinting in the faint light available, crinkled up at the corners. "True, and I have an appointment with Chris and Julie in the morning. By the way, you're welcome to come with me. They're very accommodating, and I bet you'd love their treatments. Chris tells me they often do pairs." She didn't actually expect Jane to take her up on the offer, but one never knew, and if there was one thing she had learned about her best friend, it was that Jane was capable of surprising her. She continued in a voice turned soft and, from lack of sleep and excess vocal strain, almost as husky as Jane's normal voice. "And then after that, I really want to see you again. There are things to say, aren't there?"

With a shrug and a full on yawn, Jane replied in a voice thick with sleepiness, "If you want me to go, I'll go." She reached a tentative hand out, an offer but not a demand, for touch. Maura slid her hand beneath Jane's. "I'm thinking we have a metric ton of stuff to say." The very brief pause was filled with uncertainty before the detective continued. "Would you object too much to letting me… um, you know, that's probably too much too soon." A heavy sigh escaped. "Good night, Maur."

"Good night, Jane." The last thought in Maura Isles's mind before she drifted into sleep, holding Jane's hand, was that it could never be too much, and it couldn't be soon enough.


	11. Chapter 11

Because they overslept, the morning was filled with practicalities: maneuvering around one another for the shower, sink, and mirror; walking and feeding Jo Friday; and getting to the aesthetics clinic on time. There were no meaningful or awkward conversations, other than Maura suggesting that Jane might really enjoy the treatments at the clinic, and Jane agreeing to give it a shot, "And if I hate it, at least I'll have something to bitch about, right?" Maura laughingly agreed, and so they both went.

The clinic was an understated sort of place, the sort of elegance that is made to look effortless. Maura stepped up to the counter and spoke with the receptionist, who glanced at her computer, made an adjustment, and then nodded. "Family and Friends treatments, or Couples?"

"Ah… Let's say Friends," Maura said quietly, cheeks pinkening.

The receptionist glanced at Jane, suppressed most of her smile, and nodded again. "I _see,"_ she replied; and she did. Maura smiled back, this time in confirmation of what the receptionist had correctly identified, even though she herself had not yet come to sureness or definition. This was what she loved about this place. Always professional, yet never cold or distant, the staff knew how to put anyone at ease.

Within a minute, another black-clad employee came to usher them into separate changing rooms that smelled freshly of a pleasantly astringent cleaning solution: these rooms were sanitary. "Please remove your clothes and put them into this bag. Take some of these disposable undergarments if you would prefer not to have full nudity," she gestured to individually wrapped, single-use panties and thongs and bandeau type breast coverings, "and put on a robe and slippers. When you're ready, press this button here, and I'll come to get you." She whisked away efficiently.

"You don't have to be naked for the treatments." Maura gave Jane a smile to reassure her, noting, "It's just that some of them feel so good for the whole body that you'll actually be uncomfortable if there's much that they can't reach on you. Use the disposable things rather than your own, because they'll get various creams and such on them." Then she disappeared into her own changing room.

With a groan, Jane stepped into her own, took Maura's unspoken advice, to an extent, and went with the disposable panties but not the disposable bra, and then pulled on the robe after folding and packing her clothes away in the bag provided. Taking in a deep breath to settle her nerves, she pressed the button and waited.

About two minutes later, the employee came back to let both Jane and Maura out of their changing rooms. She took their clothing bags, explaining as she led them down the hallway to their treatment room that the bags would be put in a safe locker until the women were ready for them again. She brought them inside, where yet another black-clad person was already there, and departed to go and help others.

"Maura, my dear," said the slightly round-bodied, grey-haired woman with a light Southern accent and a smile that lit up her enormous blue eyes as she walked up to her caramel-haired client. Her voice was equally warm and rich, like a really _good_ coffee, as she asked, "May I touch you?"

"Please," replied Maura with the same almost-teasing tone, and the two embraced as if they were old friends. In a way, they were. As they let go one another, Maura explained for Jane, "Here at the center, everyone is very careful to do only what will make a client feel comfortable. They always ask first before any kind of touch, so that a client always knows that it's their choice. Jane, this is Chris Koopman, who's been my aesthetician since I was a child, barring the time I spent in France. Chris, this is Jane Rizzoli, my especial friend."

Chris turned to look more closely at Jane, having heard the adjective applied to her. Whatever she saw made her smile again and offer a hand. "May I shake your hand, Miz Jane?" she asked.

"Um," Jane looked from one woman to the other before extending her hand, "sure."

Another woman entered the room as Chris got acquainted with Jane. She was introduced (along with a request to shake hands) as Julie, a licensed massage therapist, and explained that while Chris performed her treatments on one woman, she would massage the other, and then they would switch. "Is there any area on which you would prefer that I specifically focus attention, or perhaps avoid?"

"I…hmm," the tall brunette shifted uncomfortably, "I have a… scar on my back that you … um, well, you know, the muscles get pretty tight around it. Not sure you can do much with that, though." She flinched and gave an apologetic look to everyone in the room. Neither Julie nor Chris seemed uncomfortable, and Julie said, "My husband has a great deal of scar tissue as well. I will do all I can for your pain."

Maura shook her head, having no strong preference. "I trust you to find what needs finding." She then glanced towards Jane and murmured, "Julie is extremely good at tending to hands." As Jane decided what to do about that, she turned back to Chris so as not to make the decision seem more momentous by staring. "Chris, I think it might be best if you start with me, and Julie with Jane. That way, Jane will be relaxed by the time she gets to your treatments, and she can see how they're done. She'll be within sight of me most of the time, won't she?"

"Yes, of course. Shall we begin?"

Maura followed Chris and immediately sat and lay back in a chair that looked something like the ones in a dentist's office, glancing back towards Jane reassuringly as she said to Chris, "I give you permission to touch my face, head, hair, hands, feet, and body for the duration of our session, in any area not covered by fabric, as needed in the performance of your professional duties." Slightly less formally and a bit less audibly, she added, "Just do everything that looks like it needs doing. I trust your expertise. Jane will probably need to ask more questions, and she probably won't want anything waxed, but just ask. She can surprise you."

With wide eyes and slightly faster than normal breath, Jane watched Maura run through the formalities before turning to Julie. "Hands, huh?" She held her hands up to waist level as she looked down at her upturned palms. "I trust Maura's judgment," she murmured to herself before looking back to the waiting professional. "They… if there's something… okay," she let out a calming breath. "If you can do something with them, that would be… good."


	12. Chapter 12

As Chris turned on various equipment to warm it up, Maura slipped on an offered head wrap to keep her hair out of her face. Once she was settled again, Chris positioned the chair to give a view of the massage table, and Maura smiled with affection to see Jane placing her trust in someone who actually could help her aches, at least temporarily.

Meanwhile, Julie led Jane towards a waist-high table, padded and covered with a white sheet, with a round, padded thing at one end. "Open your robe, but do not remove it yet. Lie face down here, with the robe open beneath you" she suggested, her soft-spoken gentleness well suited to her profession. "Place your face here in this holder. It will let you breathe freely while facing downward. With your permission, I would like to begin with your neck and shoulders. I will move the robe and put towels over any part of your body that I am not treating at the time in order to preserve your modesty. I will always ask before moving to a new area. Are you comfortable with beginning?"

"Okay," Jane settled as she'd been instructed. "Fair warning, I'm stupid ticklish around my ribs, and I can't promise I won't just freak when you get to the scar on my back. It's… new. But… no buts. I said I'd be willing to try because Maura asked me, and," she cleared her throat. "Sorry, I kind of ramble when I'm nervous."

"I will move slowly so as not to startle your nerves," Julie promised, and then after asking permission to touch, began at Jane's neck. Maura was pleased to see her work, knowing how well Julie performed her job. She began with plain, flat-handed touch so as to relax the nerve endings and calm her client, then increased pressure very gradually until each part of the body was warmed, softened, relaxed. Each touch made the body aware of its own carried-around aches, then soothed them. As promised, she continued to ask permission each time a new part would be uncovered and touched, and all other areas would be covered. Never once, during the entire handling of the back of Jane's body, did she lose contact with Jane. She had explained near the beginning that she did not like a client to feel adrift.

Over in the aesthetician's chair, eyebrows, under arms, legs, and one other area which was shielded from view of the massage table by Chris's body were all defoliated; Maura was accustomed enough to the procedure not to yelp, but she did rapidly suck in breath and hold it at each pull of the wax strips. When the last one was completed, she giggled, because it was over and there was a certain relief involved. Chris teased her gently with the ease of one long accustomed to the client-turned-friend, and they moved on to more pleasurable treatments.

They also moved on to a different table entirely, though still within sight of Jane, should she decide she needed reassurance. Skilled, clear-gloved hands manipulated Maura from head and face to toe and sole, rubbing a cleanser all over (but for the disposable thong she had donned once the waxing adventure was over), rinsing with a hand-held sprayer, then applying three different types of scrub. The second scrub was a masque, it appeared: abrasive, followed by full-body drying over the front, then the back; each time she was drying on her body, something different would be happening on her face, so that there was never a moment of neglect. Also, there was conversation. Maura heard, and therefore so did Julie and Jane, about Chris's husband retiring from the Navy next month. Chris heard that Jane was a decorated hero, and that Bass was eating well again. Apparently, Maura had neglected her treatment schedule since just before the shooting, and was only now coming back.

Julie's skill with scar tissue was remarkable, and at the end of the first hour, the entire back of Jane's body had been rendered pliant and loose, and smelled of the enchanting blend of massage oil scents. "Are you comfortable turning over so that I can address other muscle groups, or shall I remain where I am?"

"I think I'm good to turn over. There's a matching scar on the front, too," Jane commented quietly as she moved to change positions. "It's a little more sensitive for some reason."

Once Jane's face was not cradled in the padded face holder, she could see Maura lying on the other table, having her final, brilliantly orange-colored and –scented moisture masque applied to the entire front of her body, from face to toes, with a soft fan-brush. She turned her head at the sound of rustling, smiling as Julie uncovered Jane's lower legs and began her work. The hand nearest Jane reached for a moment, though they were about five feet apart, then dropped again to the table's surface: _I've got you. You're fine._ Aloud, she asked Chris what was being applied, and was informed of the exact ingredients of the moisture and vitamin masque that would be soaking into her skin.

Once it was applied, Chris could have gone out for a coffee, but instead she scooted her little wheeled chair around, raised it up, and started brushing Maura's hair while they waited for the required fifteen minutes. They chatted lightly again, this time concerning Chris's son's second child being born and her daughter's upcoming wedding. She seemed to like to alternate her own personal information with that of her clients, or at least, with such a longstanding client. "How long?" she asked, blue eyes flicking towards Jane as she watched her favorite client watching her newest one.

Maura's expression softened as Julie covered Jane's lower legs and moved to her thighs. "We've been close friends for over a year now, and…" She paused, unsure of how to continue. Chris murmured, "Pending?" not wanting it to be extremely obvious that she was shielding Jane from anything she was saying. Maura nodded, relieved at not having to give definition. "Pending."

Julie re-covered Jane's thighs and uncovered her abdomen, which she treated with especial care from just above the pelvis to just below the breasts. She was especially gentle with the scar in the right rib area, but eventually did get the surrounding tissues to relax, releasing some of the pain that continued to plague Jane. "Careful," whispered Maura, her attention for once not focused on the sheer sybaritic delight of her own treatments. But her admonition, however soft, was not necessary. Julie was right, she was _very_ good at handling damaged flesh, healed wounds.

"It's okay, Maur," Jane's voice was soft, relaxed, "she's not hurting me." Deep brown eyes cracked open to look over at the doctor, and Jane grinned. "Orange is a good color on you," she lightly teased.

Chris continued to brush Maura's hair for another few minutes, both had a quiet chuckle, but not at Jane's expense. Mostly at Maura's, in fact; she blushed prettily from face to shoulders to upper body at the compliment, then noted, "Well, it'll be your turn next. Mine is almost over." Indeed, a few minutes later, Chris put down the hairbrush and picked up the spray nozzle again, testing its temperature on her wrist, then using it to rinse Maura clean of the orange masque, then turned on a warm lamp to dry her rather than a moisture-robbing blow dryer or a chafing towel. Lastly came moisturizers, and these were all different. There was one just for her face, neck, and décolleté, another for most of the rest of her body, and an intensive one for elbows, hands, and feet.

At Jane's table, Julie spent just as much effort, though not quite as much time, on the muscles in Jane's chest, though not the breasts themselves; she mentioned specifically that those should be dealt with by someone besides herself, but they _would_ benefit from some care. She glanced towards the aesthetician's table so quickly that one might easily miss it, then returned her attention to Jane's facial muscles and the front of her neck as Maura's treatments ended. She finished with another superfluous but entirely enjoyable trip around each of Jane's scarred palms.

Each woman's treatment ended within about one minute of each other. Both were handed robes, and Julie and Chris gave them privacy to re-dress by cleaning up their own stations to make ready for the switch. Maura didn't bother with her robe; she felt too happy to cover up again.

Chris did notice, and grinned. "Such a nudist. Would you bother wearing clothing at all, if it weren't cold, unsanitary, and illegal to go without it?"

Maura laughed. "Probably not," said the clothes horse, and Jane learned something new.


	13. Chapter 13

Blinking rapidly, Jane cleared her throat a few times as she pulled her robe on. The blush on her face was slowly creeping down the rest of her body, and, as she passed Maura on her way to the other table, her eyes had a difficult time staying straight ahead. "I can't even," she mumbled to herself as she came to a stop in front of Chris. "You wouldn't happen to have something around I could take a shot of, do you?" The expression on her face giving away the fact that she was a little embarrassed, a little confused, and a little of something else.

As the two passed each other on the way to opposite treatments, Maura murmured, "You don't have to wax, Jane, or do anything else you don't think you'll enjoy. This isn't about turning you into anything. It's about reminding yourself that you deserve to feel good and be treated well." She lay face down on the massage table, but before lowering herself all the way, repeated her instructions for Julie. "I give you permission to touch me as needed for the performance of your professional duties. I have no limits, save that which is covered by fabric, and at this time I have no special areas that need to be tended or avoided."

"Sorry, they made me take my jug of Drambuie home after the Christmas party debacle of 1985." Chris spread a new sheet on her 'dentist' chair and patted it, seconding Maura's suggestion. "I'll ask you before I do anything new, and you never have to say yes to anything you don't want. Remember, I'm a mother and grandmother. I'm used to people telling me no. Now, Miz Jane, I need to ask you some questions. I didn't ask our Maura because her answers are already on file." She pulled up a little computer and began.

"Well… fine."

"Are you allergic to onions, garlic, aloe, or related plants?"

"Onions, garlic, birch tree, and grass." Jane rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed at how long the list was.

"Are you allergic to shellfish or iodine?"

"No."

"Do you have any other known allergies?"

"I'm allergic to honey when eaten, but fine if it's in a lotion or whatever. As long as it stays away from my mouth, I'm good. I'm also allergic to blueberries. Even touching them gives me the hives. The same goes for jalapeños." She gave the older woman a sideways glance. "But, you guys don't use jalapeño juice in this stuff, right?"

"No, but just let me check something." The aesthetician clicked away at the laptop, and from where Jane was sitting, she could also see that Maura's file was being accessed. "Hm. Should be fine." Once allergies were handled, Chris asked, "Are there any plants whose smell you find offensive or unpleasant?"

"Yeah, actually," Jane shifted in her chair, "I really hate the smell of honeysuckle. No idea why, but it really grosses me out. Also, I could do without Carrion flowers." She gave Maura a smirk, though Maura, being face-down on the table, could not see it. Still, she heard the chuckle – one could tell by the muttering of "Smart aleck."

Chris marked those answers on her computer as well. The allergy and smell questions eliminated a few products from use. "Not to worry," Chris promised, "we have substitute products for everything in our product lines."

Over to the side, Maura was already being treated to Julie's expertise. The massage therapist had stamina, it must be said: she'd manipulated Jane's muscles for two hours without flagging, and looked to be in fine shape to do the same for Maura, who simply let it all happen, once in a while sighing as a muscle relaxed, or grunting as particular problem areas were located and dealt with. For Jane, the massage had been quite gentle, especially around the scar tissue. With Maura, Julie only started soft, and soon delved into true deep-tissue massage.

"Would you say that your skin is oily, dry, combination, or neutral?"

"Combo."

Chris tapped her screen once more. "Do you have areas of particular concern on your face or body, in terms of your skin alone? I know you have some scar tissue, and I will be very careful in those areas."

"That pretty much covers it." These questions weren't so bad.

"Would you like any areas waxed for hair removal?"

"Oh God, well… That will hurt like hell, won't it?" The question was clearly rhetorical as Jane considered it for a moment, then shrugged giving a what-the-hell look before replying, "Do it all, and I hope you can forgive me my lang-"

"_MotherfuhhhhhhgodJulie,"_ groaned Maura as Julie took particular offense at a tough knot in her mid-back, just near the scapula, and then surprised no one but Jane by adding, "Don't stop. Clearly I need this even more than I realized."


	14. Chapter 14

"Okay, never mind. You obviously are used to questionable language," Jane deadpanned.

Chris chuckled, noting, "That's very rare from her. She must have found herself very tense for the last six months since she's come in for treatments. We do have one product that could cause some issues if you are carrying a fetus. Could you be pregnant?"

Jane actually laughed. "Sorry, couldn't stop it before it came out." She shook her head, pulling herself together. "Uh, no, I'm not pregnant."

"Are there areas of your body that are not covered by fabric, which you wish me to avoid treating?"

Again, Jane glanced in Maura's direction before giving that same shrug and what-the-hell look. "Nope."

Chris saved Jane's answers, then smiled and got to her work, beginning with a gentle facial cleanser applied with gloved fingers. "This only removes surface oils, dirt, and the like. If it starts to tingle, itch, or burn, let me know, because that means we will have discovered a new allergen for you. Actually, that goes with anything I do for you today. It will be a little cold. May I touch your face?" After obtaining permission, she began. It was indeed chilly, but warmed quickly on the skin, and then she removed it with cotton balls.

The wax, already at the proper temperature, came next. "May I put this on your eyebrow area and between your eyes?" Again she waited for permission before dabbing the wax exactly where it was needed, and nowhere else, then applying a cotton strip on top of the wax to set. Once the wax cooled, she took hold of the first strip. "I'll pull this quickly, and then put my hand on the area to calm your nerve endings. If you need to shout, that's okay. I'll do each under-brow, then between your brows. And before you get nervous, I'll tell you now that I don't think I'll need to take care of your upper lip or chin, as I do with about half of my clients. Ready?"

It stung, quickly, but once Chris placed her hand over the area, the skin calmed quickly. It probably helped that she had a cold cloth wrapped around that hand. The second was both easier and harder since Jane was now aware of how it would feel. "All done. You were very brave. Would you like me to do your underarms, legs, or other areas?"

On her table, Maura spoke up. "You don't have to, Jane. _AAGH_ – No, it's good, Julie. I'm good. Keep going." Her skin gleamed with the oil, showing finger trace marks wherever Julie had pressed, stroked, or kneaded.

Over on the other side of the room, Julie was explaining to Maura sotto voce, "I gave your friend some citrus and rosemary scent. I'm giving you cardamom and mint. They should be pleasant for you both and blend nicely if you spend much time together after this today." Maura hummed approval as Julie dealt with the tendons in her hands, adding quietly, "Thank you, Yenta. I'm sure we'll be fine."

"I'm fine, Maur," came the reply before Jane's head did a double take toward Maura. "Yeah… just," she closed her eyes, squeezing them shut as she bit down on her bottom lip for a moment. "God," she grumbled quietly and with some audible frustration. "You say they made you get rid of the good stuff in 1985, huh? Okay, yes," she pulled herself back together, "Just… okay," she opened her eyes again, inhaling deeply, "you've got my permission to get those areas. Legs and underarms."

Chris smiled; it was a compliment to her when a client trusted her with something that was not necessarily pleasant until after it was done. "I'll put the wax on with the wooden applicator, just as I did with the eyebrows and so forth, and press each strip down just as before with my flat hand, and then a quick pull. You'll tell me when you're ready for each strip. When they're all finished, I'll lotion you up for a minute while I prepare your skin treatments at the other station. May I begin?" As before, she asked permission for each application of wax, each strip of cloth, and each quick pull.

It was _not_ a painless operation. However, by the end of it, Jane's legs and under arms were perfectly smooth, and the cool cloth and lotion did a lot to soothe the sting. Chris waited an extra few moments before turning around and once again complimenting Jane's bravery. "Now, how about we make it all better? I've got a body cleanser with your name on it."

At each new step, Chris was careful to ask permission, explain the process, and then perform the procedure with professionalism and gentleness. She led Jane over to the table that had been home to Maura's treatments and patted the top, then put on a new pair of gloves, translucent white, that showed her wedding ring below. "Now, you let me know if anything stings, itches, burns, or if you just don't like it. Let me run the water for a minute and you tell me how the temperature feels." She turned on the sprayer and sprayed it over Jane's fingers until they discovered the right temperature, then she turned it off and picked up a fan brush and a bowl. "This will clean away the surface oils and dirts, just like what we did to your face earlier. After I rinse it, I've got a really nice scrub with ground nuts, nut shells, and some nice oils."

The cleanser was creamy and cool, the fan brush soft and comforting as it spread the cream in precisely placed arcs over Jane's entire body, save that which was covered by fabric. Front and back, she put it on, then rinsed Jane off.

Next came the scrub, which was rough but not damaging in its abrasion. Chris explained that it would clear away dead skin, trace amounts of wax, and would make way for the next step. She applied it with flat palms, efficient and thorough but quite painlessly, over face and body.

Once the scrub was rinsed away in that warm, gorgeous water, Chris applied the masque, also to face and body. As it sat to dry, she did for Jane just as she had done for Maura, brushing her hair. "This isn't really part of the procedure, but I enjoy doing it, and I've always had clients say that they like it. My kids sometimes still ask me to brush their hair when they come visit me, and so does my granddaughter. You have such pretty hair. I bet your… friends all like to fix it, don't they?"

As Maura turned over to let Julie at her front half, she said, "Yes, if Jane will let me." Julie had eventually calmed down from the strength of the deep-tissue massage to a more mellow pressure, and now Maura looked well on her way to happy-sleepy-cat stage, slitted hazel eyes barely focused as she watched Jane's treatments take place. "It's really glossy, isn't it?"

"You never said you wanted to," Jane replied, eyes closed as she gave an appreciative hum. "You should say stuff about things you want to do to me, Maur. If you don't say, how am I supposed to know?" She blew out gust of air. "I mean, I came here, didn't I?"

Maura was quiet for a long moment before replying quietly, "That's right, you did. You surprised me." Something in her voice caused Jane to open her eyes and look. Maura was smiling.


	15. Chapter 15

The body masque took about ten minutes to dry under the warming lamp, then ten more minutes on the back side. To help Jane pass the time, Chris made quiet conversation, but nothing of note. Nothing to distract Jane unnecessarily from her real focus. At the end of the masque drying period, probably neither of them could have said what they had discussed. "You look like you're dry now, Miz Jane, so I'm going to rinse you off. Is this temperature still warm enough for you?" She tested the water stream on Jane's fingers again, just to be sure. When it was right, she rinsed until Jane was free of the white stuff that had drawn impurities out of the skin. "This is the same masque I used for Maura, except that hers had the scrub blended into it, and I gave you the scrub separate from the masque. You looked like you could use the extra pampering." It _had_ been nice, with all that comforting rubbing.

"Now, this last masque," Chris explained, "is going to be a little bit like Maura's orange one, but your skin is combination and hers is dry, so the vitamin mix will be a little bit different." As she rubbed it in, from face to fingertips, neck to toes, she explained that the lighter color came from a different balance of vitamins from different flowers and fruits. "This only has to sit for five minutes on each side, which means that as soon as I get to the bottom of you, the top will be ready for the rinse." She massaged it into the skin with small, circular movements of her fan-brush. "It's going to make you feel terrific."

"Ooh," Maura murmured over on her table. "Peach is _your_ color."

"Better than mauve," came the dry reply from Jane's side of the room.

Chris took a moment to just enjoy the calm playfulness of her clients as she waited out the time in which Jane's final masque set. Though the receptionist had called this a Friends package, she had set it up much closer to the way she did her Couples treatments, and it seemed she had made the right choice. Maura had not brought in anyone before, though she had mentioned how much she thought she'd like to try that someday. This was the first visit in Maura's life, since she was six years old, in which she had not seemed the slightest bit wistful. It was lovely to see an unmitigated smile from her most longstanding client.

Not that she would ever say so, not directly. There were professional boundaries to be kept, no matter how much she genuinely liked Maura, no matter how much Maura seemed to like her back. There would be no telltale tears today on either of their parts – not like when Maura was six, and had been brought in by her mother for a birthday gift while her mother went to work for most of the day. She wasn't just playing surrogate caregiver anymore, and Maura no longer needed the extra care from Chris to make up any part of what she wasn't getting at home.

Well, that was neither here nor there. Time to resume treatment, as Maura's deep, contented sigh from the other table attested. She could tell Julie was nearing the end of her massage, finishing with the caramel-brunette's face and another quick trip down the neck.

"Let's get you rinsed and put some toner on you, Miz Jane," she said as she picked up the spray nozzle and began. Naturally, the spray had to stop at the neck to keep Jane's hair dry; she removed the masque from her face, as previously, with wet cotton balls. "Goodness, you're already glowing. All right, now, this will be a bit cool." She used another cotton ball, this one smelling of citrus and vaguely astringent, to wipe down Jane's face, then a little mister to coat the rest of her skin. "There's some cucumber extract in it as well. That's very gentle, and it will keep you from turning red all over."

"Great," Jane smiled up at the woman gently working on her skin. "Thank you."

The final step for Jane was moisturizer. As with Maura's treatment, there was a very gentle one for the face, neck, and décolleté, and a creamier one for the rest of the body. It was like a mini-massage treatment all over again, just right to both relax and reenergize the muscles and attitude. On the table, Maura was sitting up, facing Jane, as Julie returned to her back for one last round of the same thing, essentially. Her eyes were mostly closed, but once in a while they would open. It happened more often as the two massages neared their mutual end, two sets of professional hands moving from medium strength pressing to light strokes of the skin, muscle to skin to nerve endings. Each finished with a gentle pat on a shoulder and a quiet, "Thank you for letting me help you today."

"Thank you both," Maura responded first. "I could not have asked for better treatment for both of us."

Both Julie and Chris moved with apparent efficiency, yet took their time, to fetch their clients' robes and lay them across fully relaxed shoulders. Though she didn't need it, Maura accepted Julie's hand as she got up from the table. Oddly, or perhaps not, she seemed a bit more self-conscious when partially clothed than she had when practically naked. She turned away to close and tie her robe and put on her slippers, then stayed that way until Jane was similarly covered.

Chris summoned an employee, who arrived just as she was requesting and obtaining permission for one final hug from each woman. Julie asked the same, and Maura obliged with a smile. "What changed?" she asked, alluding to the fact that Julie had never done so before.

"It seemed like the right time," replied the surprisingly muscular Eurasian woman. "I liked you both, and I feel pleased to have been able to help you. I hope you'll be back more regularly, now that you're not as busy."

Maura pulled an envelope from the pocket of her oversized white robe and slipped it to Julie, then did the same for Chris. "I hope so, too. I think I will." She glanced towards Jane. "Maybe we'll come back together again sometime. Take care, both of you. Chris, my best to Hank."

Then the black-clad employee ushered them off down another hallway for their manicures and pedicures, followed by hairstyling.


	16. Chapter 16

As Jane opened the door and reached for Jo Friday's leash, Maura suggested, "Why don't I walk her? Just get her some food and water, and maybe call out for something for us, and I'll be back soon. You look a little dazed, and you should get a chance to relax and process for a while. Maybe lie down in a cool, dark room." Before Jane could even answer, Maura squeezed her hand and sneakily removed the leash from it. Soon she and Jo were gone, the leash jingling as they headed down the stairway and made for the nearest shrubbery.

"When did she start getting the upper hand on me?" Jane was talking to herself as she followed directions and filled her little dog's food and water bowls. "I mean, really? And I am actually doing what she tells me? Man, what the crap?" She moved through the kitchen thinking on what to do for food. "I don't want to order out. We eat out all the time. I want to do something… I think," she opened her cabinets to take inventory, "yup, leave it to Ma to make sure I'm stocked. That settles it. I'm making eggplant parm. Maura can deal."

Slipping on an apron her mother had left behind, Jane began gathering ingredients and was busy cooking when Maura came back in with Jo after a long, healthy walk.

Jo bounced in, yapping all about the neighborhood news; Maura was still glowing from their earlier treatment followed by fresh air. That look of irritation and tension she had worn for weeks was entirely gone. She let Jo off the leash to get a snack and drink, then made for the kitchen herself. "Wow," she said of the heavenly fragrance which had pulled her up the external staircase and in through the door, "dinner smells incredible, Jane. I didn't think you'd have the energy for it, but if this is what I think it is, I'm really glad you do, after all. Would you like some help?" Already, she was washing her hands to get the doggie off of them.

"Set the table?" Jane motioned toward a far cabinet. "If you want, I have a table cloth stashed away. Don't tell Ma. She'll want to buy me more, and I'll wind up with 20 of the things when all I need are two." She rolled her eyes as she finished slicing the eggplant. "Also, there's a bottle of red in the fridge. We probably want to pull that out, right?"

"Right." Exactly as Jane had instructed, Maura did, though she started with the wine first to give it maximum time to breathe and reach room temperature. As she put out the last of the silverware, she wondered, "You went with me because I asked, and I _think_ you enjoyed yourself today, but did you really? I know I sort of made the decision for you, so I think I owe you one." She stood back to view her work. Table cloth, napkins folded prettily, silverware, wine and water glasses, plates. The smaller woman frowned, then smiled as it occurred to her what was missing, and she went digging in the kitchen counters that Jane wasn't blocking, looking for some candles – not tall, fancy tapers, just little votives.

"I wouldn't object to going back if you were there," with a shrug, Jane finished grating the cheese over the dish and placing it in the oven. "I don't think you owe me anything," she turned around, wiping her hands on her apron. "If anything, I think I owe you, but I know you won't let me pay you back."

Maura explained as she rooted around in the upper kitchen cabinets, coming up with nothing but a single potpourri tealight, which Angela had probably left there in the hope that Jane would do something pretty and girlie. _If she only knew._ She put it back. "I meant that you did something that I wanted to do, so I want to do something you want to do, the next time we do things. Where in the world…" Nothing but tapers in the Drawer of Useful Items that every kitchen seemed to have, and there were no holders for them. Maura closed the drawer, then dropped to her knees to go scrabbling about in the lower cabinets.

"So, we're going to keep doing things together on a regular basis?" Jane didn't bother to keep the teasing out of her voice. "How about I think about it and get back to you on it?" She leaned against the cabinet by the oven, hands resting on the countertop on either side of her. With a certain amount of thoughtfulness in her voice, she added. "Julie's pretty gifted, but I think I like it better when you work on my hands." Then, with more amusement in her voice, she said, "Top drawer of the nightstand on your side of the bed."

"I like it better, too," admitted Maura as she stood, dusted off her bare knees, and straightened up with a grin. "My side, huh?" She knew what Jane meant, of course: the side on which she customary slept whenever they had sleepovers. But the urge to tease was strong in her, and always had been. "You keep candles in the top drawer in the bedroom? What do you keep in the bottom drawer?" Before Jane could answer, she popped into the bedroom and went right for the drawer Jane had indicated. Sure enough, there were the votive candles in their pretty blue holders. She brought them back, still smiling, having made a point not to investigate any other drawers, whether on 'her' side or Jane's.

"Yes," Jane shot back as she checked on the food, _"your _side. Let's not kid ourselves here." She chuckled, pulling out the hot dish. "I have dessert, too. Ma says it's better to let this," she motioned to the eggplant, "rest for a couple before serving, but I always hate to wait, you know?" She stepped away from the food to untie the apron, which turned out to be harder than she expected. "Man, Maura, can you help? I think I have a knot in the tie back there." She gave a little stamp of her foot.

Once the candles were situated on the table, with matches nearby for lighting them, Maura went to help Jane. "Sure. Stand still. Ah-ah-ah, no stamping. Still. Oh, I see what's happened. The tail of the bow got caught up in the bow itself, and then you pulled it a bit too tight." As her fingers worked the fabric loose, she inhaled deeply. "Wow. You smell… Mm, _warm._ I really like the moisturizer Chris used on you. Aha, here we go." Moments later, the apron strings dangled free. Maura resisted the urge to pull or swat at them, though it took some effort.

"Thanks," Jane turned around as she pulled her apron off. "I like what they used on you, too," she smiled gently, "but I always think cardamom and mint smell good on you." The gentle smile turned into a smirk at the surprised look on Maura's face. "What? I guess I'm just full of surprises, huh? Grab the wine while I serve the parm?"

Replies scrolled through Maura's eyes and facial expression, but in the end she only smiled and picked up the wine to pour. She lit the candles as well, then sat down to let Jane reign as head chef. "This smells incredible, Jane, and it looks delicious." _You look… Stop it._ "You're a very good cook." Below her feet, Jo Friday danced around, hoping to get in the way enough that someone would drop something tasty for her. Maura looked down and chuckled, but told her, "No. You have your own. Human food could cause digestive problems for you."

"Beat it, Jo." Jane finished serving and sat down across from the doctor. "You have your own stuff, and Maura and I need some personal time. Go play in the other room for a little while. I promise to play later." The little dog stopped moving as if she understood what her owner was saying, yelped a few more times, and then trotted into the bedroom. "Good kid, a little hardheaded, though." She winked. "I know how you feel about my eggplant parmesan," Jane was smiling as she took a sip of her wine, "and it's easy to make, so I thought, 'Why not?' Besides, I get tired of eating out all the time, you know? Sometimes it's nice to spend an evening in with you." She sat her glass down and picked up her utensils. "Less distractions. It's nice."

"I agree," Maura replied, picking up her glass. She did not drink immediately, taking a moment first to watch Jane's first sip, almost as if making a silent toast before enjoying her own taste. "It's a pleasure to do something different once in a while. And, and I like doing different or new things with you. Even if it's something I've done before, I think I get more out of it by experiencing it through you. Like today. Today was even better because you were with me."


	17. Chapter 17

"Yeah?" Again, Jane blushed. It was starting to become chronic. "I had a good time. Thank you for letting me tag along. Maura," the hesitation was tense as the detective tried to figure out where to go next, "you always… _you're_ the one who normally gives, between the two of us. You're the one who says that you're willing do or say or answer whatever I'm comfortable with so that whatever it is that I know is what I want to know. Don't look so shocked. I know what you're doing when you're doing it. I didn't make lead detective without reason." She waved her a hand to dismiss Maura's impending comment. "What you do; that you do _that_ is a huge gift, you know? But, just once, I wish you'd let me at least have the chance to give you that much trust, respect, and care in return." An earnest, almost pleading expression filled Jane's eyes. "If there's something you want to know, ask me. I promise to be honest, and I _will_ answer whatever you ask me honestly."

Maura listened easily at first, then with growing complexity of expression, scarcely breathing. When she set down her wine glass, it was quicker and with more of a thump than she had perhaps intended, though the wine did not spill. Both hands took refuge in her lap, folded atop her napkin for a moment. She breathed. Her breath caught. "I…" she began, then could go no further for a long moment. Finally she said, "Right now all I can think of is to answer _your_ question. You asked me earlier, and I think you may have meant it to be rhetorical, but I have an answer. Yes. I want to keep doing things with you. That is to say, we've always done things together, but… I… I want to keep doing things with you on a regular basis, and you can think about that all you like, but now you know what I want, so let that enter into your thinking." She rubbed her hands together for a moment as if they were cold before letting one drift up to pick up her fork and cut a bite of eggplant. Before she took her bite, she added, "Jane, I do have some things I want to ask you, and some things I hope I'll be able to say, but I think we both need to eat dinner first. Is that okay?"

"Sure, Maura, whatever you need," Jane gave a small nod before picking up her fork again.

They spoke lightly over dinner. Among other topics, Maura recalled Frankie's glorious debut as Frank N. Furter and Maura's full intent to portray Janet, or perhaps Columbia, the next time she went. She was hooked. "I still can't believe I did that," she admitted with a bashful grin. "I hope you took pictures while I was onstage. Speaking of which, I have several of you and Frankie. He danced so well. Not with great skill, but with beautiful confidence. I guess that's a family trait. You have the same way about you, and yours is even more fascinating. I love watching you move. You know, at the gym, or just any time, really. I've often wondered whether you have any idea how…" She paused, glancing down at her half-eaten dinner, and took a breath. "Well, there we are. See, I do have a question. Do you _know_ how appealing you are, or do you just not even realize the effect you have on people?" _On me?_

A dark eyebrow raised in consideration as Jane gave a moment to actually consider the question. "I don't really think about it, but I know it's there. Sometimes I even use it when I'm trying to get information for a case, but that's pretty rare. You know how much I hate to be thought of as 'just a girl' when I'm on the job. But, yes, I do know." She took a bite of her food to give her a moment more to think. "But I've spent most of my life trying to play it down. In my career, being attractive is not actually an asset. Plus," she sighed, "I haven't really had a reason to play it up for anyone. I don't want someone to start dating me because they think I'm going to be great arm candy for them. I want them to want to be with me because they like me – the bitchy parts and all. If I was with someone, I think I might actually play it up a little more if they liked it. I wouldn't mind being someone's arm candy from time-to-time if I knew that they weren't keeping me to be just that."

Maura giggled as she slid a hand across the table. "I'm glad you know that. You _are_ gorgeous, but that wasn't what I meant. I really meant the overall effect of everything about you. Including your bitchiness," she added with another chuckle. "All of it. Everything. You're devastating, Jane, not _just_ physically attractive. Not by a long shot." As if she hadn't said a word, the shorter woman went back to eating her eggplant parmesan. A moment later, she asked, "How were you feeling last night at the theater?"

Jane fumbled her fork. "Oh, ah," she cleared her throat and gently set down the utensil. "A lot of different things, really. When you first got here, I was distracted because I couldn't wait to see Frankie in that getup. Then, when we got to the theater, I was happy you came with us because I had good time watching you have a good time. By the time we made it back to the car afterwards, I realized I was," she chewed her bottom lip, torn about what exactly to say, "tired, and distracted in a different way. I was… God, Maura, you were too gorgeous for words, and I know I was staring. I'm not sorry about that. I was," she frowned and grunted in frustration at not being able to get the words out, "just… I was turned on."

Again, Maura took a deep breath and held it, but this time she would not look away from Jane. "And today?"

"Nervous and," despite the trepidation in her voice, Jane pressed on, "still turned on."

The breath she had been holding, Maura let go in slow, controlled exhalation. Her blink was slow, giving her time to think, but not much. She did not need much. "Jane?" Now both hands slipped onto the table. "I need you to know something before I ask you anything more. I need you to really, _really_ know that you are my best friend. Always, Jane. Do you understand how strongly I mean that?"

Dark curls bounced slightly as Jane nodded her understanding.

Maura went on, seeming to have as much trouble with asking questions as Jane did with answering, but determined to press forward, stammering and becoming ever so slightly breathless with the hyperventilation that was threatening to occur. "Do you think… Do you feel, I mean, that we could be okay if… if we were to… be… closer?"

Without a word, the detective stood, gently taking Maura's hand and pulling her up to stand in front of her. "No, I don't mind."

"I meant…" Uncharacteristically, Maura bit her bottom lip even as she edged nearer, lacing their two hands together. "Well, actually, this is really nice."

"Yeah, it is." Jane smiled, eyes shimmering. "But what did you mean?" She pulled them closer until they were just barely touching.

Maura let out a quiet squeak from the back of her throat. "Closer," she repeated, the tiniest of questions inflecting the end of the word. "I want…" It took far longer than usual for her to formulate her thoughts into words, but eventually the words did come. She licked her lips. "When we argued, it was because I made a boundary. I thought it was _supposed_ to be there, but I didn't _want_ it. Jane… I don't want any more boundaries. I want you to have everything. Let me give you everything."

"Maura, whatever you need, all you have to do is ask," the taller woman's eyes flickered down before meeting the gaze of the other woman again. "In fact, you don't even have to do that." She smirked, "You have permission to touch me," the last of the statement was nothing more than a whisper, colored air, "_everywhere."_

Maura's eyes went nearly black with pupil dilation, and her skin heated so rapidly that she knew Jane would feel it even through both of their clothes. She swallowed, suddenly inarticulate. "You… I… _Jane."_ She leaned in, and then there was a hand sliding around Jane's waist, pressing the small of her back, and another running up her spine and the nape of her neck and up into her hair, pulling her down as Maura's body attempted to meld with her, and there were soft lips kissing hard, breasts pressing together, bellies meeting, hips pushing.

Giving in to Maura's unspoken want, Jane wrapped her hands around Maura's waist, helping to pull them closer. She easily consented to the smaller woman's tugs and pulls as the kiss lengthened and deepened, and she showed no shame with the whimper that escaped her as the kiss finally broke. With an air of relief and look of desire, she breathed out the combination of what Maura had been saying just a moment before, "We. Us." She smiled.

"Jane?" Maura pleaded, using the leverage granted by her lower center of gravity to nudge backward, towards the bedroom. "Hush. Need… now… touch. _Now."_

"Whatever _we_ need," came the husky reply as they moved through the open bedroom door, "yes."

* * *

Long after satiety had been reached, the pair lay in a lazy grapple, movements gone languid. One would wake, take a long moment to kiss a shoulder, stroke a hip, gaze onto a sleeping face, and fall back asleep. Sometimes both would wake, and there would be drink or food, and more lovemaking, now and then a shower, and then more lying down and togetherness. Sunday passed much the same way, barring walks with Jo Friday. On Sunday afternoon, the women took Jo Friday over to Maura's so that she could have access to her own closet and grooming supplies and she could give Bass's caregiver a day or two off. As they jointly prepared an early dinner, Maura noted, "You look like I feel right now."

"Oh, yeah?" Jane asked, snagging a piece of cheese before Maura could grate it. "How's that?"

Maura didn't even bother pretending to be upset that Jane had stolen the cheese, since she had sliced two thin pieces for each of them from the block she was using in the salad. "Like a woman who's been treated well by someone who knows how. I want to make you look like that every chance I get. Is that okay?"

"Sure," Jane stepped behind Maura, wrapping her arms around the smaller woman's waist as she placed her chin on the doctor's shoulder, "if I get to do the same for you. Things shouldn't be a one-way street in a relationship." She suddenly tensed. The teasing in her voice dropped as she squeaked out a weak, "Right?"

"Right," Maura replied, leaning back into Jane's body. Her eyes closed and hands stilled as she took a long moment to enjoy the warmth of all the places where their bodies touched. "Jane? Relax. I told you before." She did set down the cheese and grater, but kept her cheesy hands out to the sides as she turned within the circle of the taller woman's arms. "You have me. I give you my permission to touch me any time, any place, anywhere, in any way that you like. For the foreseeable future. Unless," she added after a too-short interruption for kissing Jane's jaw line, neck, and collarbone, "I'm performing an autopsy, in which case it would be best if you could wait until I put down the scalpel."

Jane's smile beamed. "Okay, but only because you told me, and you know how hard it is for me to tell you no." She stole a quick kiss before pulling back to go to the fridge. "I know you keep this in here for me," she pulled out a small container of heavy cream, "and I love this stuff, but did you know I'm lactose intolerant? I normally pop a pill before I come over just so I can drink it with my coffee." She pulled a glass down and poured. "I'm going to try to remember to tell you stuff like that." She poured the cream into her coffee, gave it a stir, and took an appreciative drink. "I like French Vanilla nondairy 'cream', though, for the record." She smirked. "Or, you know, yours…"

* * *

**Thank you for reading. Reviews are always appreciated.**


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